What do a priest, a socialite and my mother have in common?
They've all tried to set me up on a date.
Or at least, throw a frickin' bone at me. Oops, no pun intended.
That's right. In the past week, I have had these three people ask me that question dreaded by all Singletons: "So. How's your love life?" Never mind that I totally pilfered that bit from Helen Fielding, it was horrid. At least I am now given three Plans by which I will successfully find a mate, as duly prescribed by those same three people.

Plan A. The Priestly Path.
He lives near Coventry and I guess his neighbor is this Italian dude. Mama mia! Never mind how I got into this conversation with a priest in the first place ... he brought it up! Anyway, he said he would like for me to meet his friend, because he's pretty special. Okaaay ...
Plan B. The Sourceful Socialite.
Her son is pre-law at OSU. First time I met him, he was in a towel, just out of the pool. Nice.
When she told me he was spending 9 weeks in Oxford next year, I immediately thought, "Duh ... maybe we can hang out!" and then it clicked and I realized, Radiohead Oxford, England Oxford. Makes sense. So then she said, "I'll have him give you a call. He'll be home in about three weeks." Yeah, sure, as if anybody listens to their mothers anymore. I'm not getting my hopes up for this one, and besides, if it doesn't work out, he's got a brother. Just kidding.
Plan C. Mother, May I?
One of her friends has a son, blah blah blah, you all know how that goes. Let me reiterate what I said in Plan B: when moms bring up 'luuuurve', we all go deaf. Or at least, I do.

I think for now, I will opt for Plan D. But instead of Vodka and Chaka Khan, I choose green tea and Starsailor.